


Duality: La Vie.

by allthetrauma



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Death Eaters, F/F, F/M, Female Relationships, First War with Voldemort, Knights of Walpurgis, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Moral Dilemmas, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Tragic Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-24 06:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthetrauma/pseuds/allthetrauma
Summary: lady, what am i doingwith a lung full of dust and a tongue of wood,knee-deep in the cold and swamped by flowers?





	1. Prologue.

**Author's Note:**

> To Camille, the light of my life, thank's for reminding me what love is.
> 
> Just a quick note before I leave you to it: the prologue is the only chapter in the project in the form of a diary and in first person. I tried to make it less structured than I normally would because, lets be honest, no 18 years old would write in her diary a completely coherent entry, especially when ranting about her problems and worries. That said, I really hope you enjoy it.

**December 27th, 1970.**

I’ve spent yet another sleepless night. This time it wasn’t because I stayed up late reading, nor because the party downstairs didn’t die until the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t that I was up studying new spells either, nor talking with Bella until dawn. The reason is truly much simpler than all that: I couldn’t stop thinking.

I know it’s been months since I last wrote, in fact I had made up my mind to abandon these diaries forever. After all, at eighteen years old, recently graduated and with a whole life in front of me, it seems pointless to keep telling my life story to an unanimated notebook. I hope that, in time, my actions will speak for me more than these words ever could. Anyway, now I know for sure this is the last time I will ever write in here, but first I need to put on the record what I think was a turning point for my life, last’s night ball. As soon as I am done, I will burn all of the other diaries, I’ll keep only this one and the one I started when I first went to Hogwarts, for I think that both of them contain important moments in my life that scarred me deeply and I fear I’ll forget if I am not careful. I can’t afford to forget the thrill I felt when I started school, all the locked doors that were suddenly opened wide, daring me to explore what laid beyond, but I also can’t forget the rage, fear and frustration I felt last night.

I lied when I said I spent a sleepless night. The truth is, I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow, but a nightmare quickly threw me from the comfortable depths of sleep into a night of silent despair. The memory is starting to blur, it’s been too many hours, but I clearly remember a woman, who didn’t need to introduce herself for me to know she was War, watching over me with an immense pity in her bottomless eyes.

The truth is I don’t know for sure what’s considered the start of a war. There’s been countless deaths already on both sides, and maybe history will record this year as the start of it, or even the last. Is open combat necessary for it to be considered a true war? Or do the lives that have already been lost count? It’s something I have never thought about before today, if I am being honest. For years I have known this day would come, that much was clear, but I never felt it creeping up on me like I do now, even if I realized it would surely affect my loved ones. It wasn’t until I felt Bellatrix was in the line of fire that I started to notice the war breathing down my neck

**December 27th, 1970. Much later.**

When I started this entry I planned on explaining every little detail but, even though less than full day has passed, the whole night is already blurry in my mind, except for the few details I remember with frightening lucidity, so I think it’s better if I just get straight to the point: Bellatrix wants to join the Death Eaters. She hasn’t, not yet, but I know she will and there’s nothing I can do or say to stop it. How could I have been so stupid to not realize it before? A part of me has been screaming relentlessly that it is all my fault. I always assumed that she shared my point of view; obviously, neither of us have ever liked _mudbloods _nor _muggles_, but I never thought she would go as far as wanting to put an end to them. To me, the most logical option has always been ignoring them, but it was foolish of me to think Bella would feel the same way. After all, deep down, I always knew the stories her family told her about the _muggle _war frightened her more than she could ever admit, and that this cemented her hate for them more than anything else. I also knew Bellatrix wasn’t one to let others fight her battles for her. Always, since she was child, she has battled her fears face to face, and I can’t understand why I thought this time it’d be different. I suppose I wanted to fool myself, but that never works out in the end, does it?

On the other hand, there’s Uncle Tom’s influence, another factor that completely slipped my mind when it shouldn’t have. I don’t know exactly what he told her last night, but I know for a fact that conversation marked a before and after in the history of Bellatrix, and therefore in mine. But then again, Uncle Tom is a completely different matter, even if it all comes down to the same…

Voldemort. I have to get used to calling him Voldemort. He will never hear me say “my lord”, but the times where he was like part of my family and I could call him Uncle Tom are long gone. He still is family, I guess, more of a father than my father, but more of a colleague than a real uncle. Still, I can’t afford to call him that anymore. Maybe I could get away with it in private, but if I ever said it in public, I know his affection for me (or is that also a lie, a manipulation?) wouldn’t save me from his rage. But, in the end there´s only one thing that matters about him: I simply can’t bring myself to hate him. After all I have admired him since I was born, and those feelings won’t go away just because he’s the leader of the disturbing movement that disgusts me more and more as the days pass, even if he’s to blame for putting Bellatrix in danger.

Even as I write, I know that that last part is not fair, that she’s an adult making her own decisions. I’m trying to convince myself again, and I really wish I could, but I’m too smart to be fooled so easily. Sometimes I think life would be simpler if only I’d been stupid. Everything would be easier if I could just blame someone else, forgive her, forget all of this.

Blood calls to blood, they say, they justify their barbarities with that. Would there be a scandal if the learnt their Lord is a half-blood? Or would they consider it a necessary evil? No one would dare deny that Voldemort is one of the best wizards of all time, pure blood or not. And, in the end, it’s not as much a matter of blood as of power, tradition, even injustice. The magical families want their value recognized, their culture protected, to stop hiding from and fearing those they consider inferior. Why should powerful magical blood bow down to mere humans? I can’t blame them, not entirely, but at the same time a part of me rebels against their logic. There have to be more options between the extremes, I don’t think the only two possible solutions are submitting to _muggles _or destroying them.

All of this to say I’m worried about the future. I’m worried about what’s going to happen, when it will happen, who it will steal from me. How many children will become orphans, how many people will lose their partners, their families, their friends? Everyone around me seems to think it is a necessary evil, but is it? I just can’t wrap my mind around it. But what worries me most of all is, of course, who will survive in the end. Whoever it is, there’s too much to lose for everyone involved. My loyalty should lay with mine, and I would certainly never support the other side, but I wouldn’t feel safe either in a world where people like my father are in charge. He made my childhood a living hell, I wouldn’t be able to stand him having that power over thousands of innocent children. But would I even care about that if something terrible happened to Bella? Or would I just become an empty shell of the woman I am today?

I don’t know where I am going with this, or why I feel the need to write it down because, in the end, I know that I will never forget whatever happens. Maybe this is my way of giving a voice to my worries, trying to make sense of the chaos in my head. Or maybe I just want to leave a mark, a memory of what I was, what I thought, what I wanted to do and couldn’t, what I feared. Just a way to survive death if she were to knock on my door earlier than expected. I know how dramatic this sounds, but just in case, if you are reading this and I’m no longer among the living, there’s only one thing I want you to know: Elira Duncan never supported this war, and she never will.

_ ** Elira Duncan.** _


	2. I. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A woman sits by the window. She thinks
> 
> And while she thinks, she despairs
> 
> She despairs because she is who she is
> 
> And not somebody else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being back again, I truly hope you are enjoying it this far. This chapter is pretty much an introduction, but it sets the tone for one of the biggest conflicts through the story, and I'm excited for you to learn more about my babies. Sorry for the angst, and I promise from now on the plot is going to start moving. 
> 
> As always, to Camille, the light of my life. I love you endlessly (and even more than that).

**December 21th, 1971.**

Elira closed the diary and let it fall onto the window’s ledge. It had been almost a year since the last time she had last written in it and burnt the rest of her memories. If she moved to the right angle, she could still see the scorched grass where the bonfire had gone out of control. Her father had been furious and refused to fix it. “So you’ll always remember the price of your recklessness," he had said. As usual, his disinterest in getting to know his daughter had claimed its price, and his punishment had failed. Elira had never considered the manor her home, or at least not since she was a child, but the blackened grass had given her a renewed sense or property. It was proof that Elira Duncan had lived there, and she had left a mark to prove it. She fantasized about a family that would buy the mansion in the future, when she was long gone and her father six feet under. What would they think about the burned parcel in the otherwise spotless garden? Would they just make it disappear with a flick of their wand or realize its value, leave it alone as a tribute to the unhappy child that had lived there once?

Her restless mind didn’t let her gloat in her fantasy for long, and promptly returned to the diary’s entry. Her words had brought back a tide of feelings, all the rage and frustration she had felt that night. Now, she almost considered innocent what had disturbed her so deeply. After all, at the time those problems weren’t but a theory, even if it was getting stronger. Now, with Bellatrix’s initiation happening within a week, her old concerns seemed childish. Had she really thought that, at only eighteen years old, the night of the ball was a turning point in her life? And worse, was she doing the same now at nineteen? Would life keep taking turns for the worst until all the sadness and despair of the past became a children’s game?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on her door. Before she could mutter an answer, Bellatrix was in her room.

Even though she was waiting for her, she could barely suppress a grimace. During the last year, they had barely seen each other: at first, it was Elira’s stay at Hogwarts that kept them apart; then Bellatrix had spent the summer in France and Elira in Italy, and, even when the leaves had started to fall and both of them had returned to England, Bella had been too busy to meet her more than a couple of times. The worst hadn’t been her absence, though, as much as Elira had missed her, but the new-found secrecy and distrust that seemed to have settled between them. Bellatrix couldn’t tell her anything about her work for the death eaters and, even if Elira understood that wasn’t her decision, that she was just following orders, she had always thought Bella would put her before anyone and anything else. She was starting to realize how wrong she was.

“Hey.” The young Black spoke softly. Her smile was the same as always, but she also seemed to notice the distance between them, for she didn’t advance into the room.

“I thought you wouldn’t come.” Elira tried to keep the resentment out of her voice, but the pain in Bellatrix’s eyes told her she hadn’t succeeded.

“Yeah, I was running a bit late.” She waited for an answer, and when it didn’t come, she finally moved closer to her. She sat on the bed, so near to the window’s seat where Elira was that they could have reached out and touched each other. Both of them thought about it, but neither one did.

It was uncomfortable to be together after a long time apart, all of the reproaches hanging between them like a sword about to fall. The silence, normally comfortable when it was just the two of them, seemed to fill the room with a devastating emptiness, devouring all the oxygen and making it hard to breathe.

“You look nice.” Finally, it was Bella who spoke up and, maybe, in a different situation Elira would have appreciated it, but this time it only served to deepen the tension.

“Cut the crap” Bellatrix opened her mouth, but Elira wasn’t done. “Really, I don’t want to hear it unless you are willing to have a serious discussion.” She laughed when she only received silence for an answer. “Normally you’re much more direct. I guess things change even more than I thought.”

The silence took over the room again. Their gazes met, fighting a fierce battle, until Bellatrix let go, repentant. “What do you want to know?”, she whispered, so softly that Elira thought she hadn’t said anything, that it was just her mind playing tricks on her. She answered all the same.

“You can start by telling me why you’ve lied to me.”

“I haven’t lied.” “No, you just withheld information,” she ironized. Her heart was beating fast, but she willed it to be quiet before speaking again. “We’ve always said we wouldn’t let anything come between us, but as soon as something better comes around you go and you leave me alone, and the few times you dignify me with your presence the weight of your secrets stands between us.”

“I swore I wouldn’t say anything, not even to you. You should know that better than anyone.” It didn’t take much for Bellatrix to drop her contrition. Even if she knew she was in the wrong, which Elira didn’t think she did, she wasn’t one to stand back from a fight.

“I am mad because I know how it is, Bellatrix. You know I would never ask about secret rituals, or anything that could endanger your cause. I only hoped that you’d share what you were learning, that we would keep getting better together. Especially, I hoped you wouldn’t kick me out of your life as soon as you found people more worth your while.”

“It’s not that!”, the anger shone in her eyes, but so did the pain. Elira knew Bella expected everything to remain the same, and that she was realizing for the first time the depths of what her attitude had caused in her. _Well, it’s for the better. Let her know that my love may be endless, but my patience is not. _“He…the Dark Lord made me swear not to say anything.”

“Don’t you dare! Again, I’m not talking about your secrets, I’m saying that I had to find out through my father, _my father of all people_, that you are getting your Mark in less than a week.” She saw the surprise on her face, but she didn’t stop. “And when I finally see you, instead of begging for my forgiveness, you have the nerve to think you are right, that you can come and go as you please and I’ll just be here, waiting for you. What will happen when you join the Death Eaters? Tell me! Will I just see you twice a year, always surrounded by mystery, not knowing what’s going on in your life?” She could barely stop the tears, and she felt weak as a child, but she couldn’t stop the words coming out of her mouth. “We swore this would never happen, but you have already forgotten, haven’t you? Was I just useful to you when we were kids and there was nothing better?”

She let her feelings take the best of her, but there was something satisfying in seeing Bellatrix’s eyes shine with the same sadness and rage she was feeling.

“That isn’t fair” “Maybe it isn’t, but what you’re doing isn’t fair either, Bella. I’ve been worried out of my mind for a year, Bella, searching your name in the paper whenever they arrested someone, or worse, whenever there were casualties on your side.”

“You are overreacting! I haven’t done anything dangerous.” “How would I know? Last year you swore you wouldn’t do anything without talking to me first, yet here we are! Since the ball you haven’t confided in me”

“That’s precisely the problem! The day of the ball a door opened to me, and I would have crossed it immediately if it wasn’t for you. How could I think about what I wanted to do with you constantly reminding me of how disappointed you are? All while I was torturing myself, realizing there were only two options: following what I know to be the right path for me or keeping you. You don’t get to do this now, not when you never took the time to even hear my side of things! Your only concern was that I didn’t want the future you have designed for us. And the worst thing is I listened to you, I stopped myself from doing what I know is right because I didn’t wanna lose you. You may think I have spent this last year training, or killing people, or whatever crazy idea you’ve got into your mind, but in reality I just needed space to think. I’m not taking the blame off myself, I truly am not, and I’m so sorry for pushing you away, but I didn’t know what else to do, Eli. I’ve hurt you, and I’ll never stop apologizing for it, but it wasn’t easy for me either!

“What do you want me to say? If I didn’t listen to your version it was because you didn’t want to talk to me, _you_ chose to distance yourself, and now you come back and want me to leave it all behind, because you didn’t do anything wrong, you just needed time to think, right? Or was it because Voldemort made you swear to keep me in the dark? You can’t even keep your version straight. What future do we have if you don’t take me into account before making such a life-changing choice?

“You don’t get it. I wanted you by my side but you didn’t want to hear me. Deny it all you want, but we both know you wouldn’t have listened to me, you wouldn’t have stopped until I either chose what you wanted or we broke irremediably. This is really important to me, and I couldn’t let you make a decision for me. If I had come back sooner, it would’ve been worse for us in the long run, believe me.” There was a despair in her voice that Elira had never heard before, and in both of their eyes there were rivers about to come loose, but their pride was too strong even then, with all of the cards on the table.

“You’ve made your choice. What makes you think I am going to accept it?”

“Nothing, it’s up to you now. But you always knew this was my path, and you tried to stop me, you tempted me in every way so I would let it go. Well, I haven’t.” A tear made its way down her cheek, but she cleaned it fiercely, leaving a red spot on her pale skin. “Elira, you are the most important person in my life, I love you more than anything, but I won’t let go of my principles for you.”

“I never asked you to! Maybe you are right, maybe I couldn’t accept it, but only because I care about you, Bella. You would’ve made your choice even if you hadn’t created this distance between us, but what do I do now? When you finally join them, what do I do? Do I wait for you, never knowing anything, always worried, only a body to warm your bed at night but without any real weight in your day to day life?”

“It wouldn’t be like that!” though she didn’t want it to, Elira’s voice had broken, and Bella took it as a chance to close the space between them. On her knees, she reached for her hand and took it to her chest. Even through her winter clothes, Elira could feel her heart beating fiercely and, maybe because of that, maybe because of everything she could see in her eyes, she didn’t let go. “The Dark Lord is nice to those who follow them. He understands you are part of me, even more important than everything else. He doesn’t want me to keep anything from you, He trusts you enough to know you wouldn’t endanger our cause. He’s even told me you can be there for my initiation, as a proof of His good faith.”, she squeezed her hand even tighter, a new fire burning in her eyes when she mentioned her master. “He’s a great man, Elira, and He’ll do great things. This is the right side, the side that will give us what we have always wanted. A future for the both of us, right there for the taking.”

The rage burning through Elira’s veins turned into pure ice. Bellatrix could believe in Voldemort’s benevolence, but she had been raised by his side, and knew better. She could see right through his intentions even in the words of others. If he would allow her to be present in one of his rituals, it certainly didn’t come from niceness, or because he understood anything about Bellatrix’s heart; it was his way of showing Elira what he wanted for her. She knew that he had always hoped that she would join him and, eventually, take her father’s place as his right hand. Was he manipulating Bella, or using her with her consent? _No_, Elira decided quickly, _she’s telling her truth, I can see it in her eyes_. That only made it worse. She didn’t need her to voice it to know that Bellatrix ambition was to rise as high as she could, until she was his best lieutenant. Maybe she would make it, she certainly had the potential, but only if Elira stayed out of the picture. Did she know that? No, she couldn’t, Voldemort had certainly read her dreams, and he wouldn’t break them, not while they kept pushing her forward, making her strong, faithful.

“Why do you want me there?”, she finally answered, pushing her thoughts aside. “So I can see how you are branded like an animal, made into little more than property?” Her anger wasn’t directed at her anymore, but she couldn’t keep the bitterness at bay. Bellatrix promptly let go of her hand like it was suddenly burning her.

“You don’t get it”, she said, her tone pure ice, while she rose to her feet.

“I don’t get it”, admitted Elira.

Their gazes met each other, both of them trying to find something in the other’s that wasn’t there. This time, Elira let go first.

Bellatrix nodded a couple of times, and she turned to go. Her hand was already on the doorknob when Elira spoke again, her voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

“I’ll be there.” It felt dirty to give in, but there was no other choice. Bellatrix had extended a bridge for her, and she didn’t have the strength to burn it. Maybe her convictions were strong enough to let her go for them, but hers weren’t, they had never been. After all, none of the sides called to her, she could afford to choose one out of love. It wasn’t like she was tying herself, she could still leave whenever she wanted. Maybe, in the future, her choice would change, but now her place was by Bellatrix’s side, wherever she went.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.” Both of them wanted to run into each other’s arms, kiss until the distance between them was but a memory, and they knew they wouldn’t be rejected if they did. Still, the wound was too fresh, and Bellatrix only spared a last glance to Elira before leaving. The only thing breaking the silence she left behind was the sound of her boots as she made her way downstairs.

Elira, as soon as she stopped hearing her steps, looked out the window again. This time, her eyes didn’t stop at the scorched grass, but went farther, into the forest that surrounded the gardens. When she was younger it seemed to hold freedom between its trees, and she dreamed of running out of the manor and into the woods, never to be seen again. Now, she realized with a sigh, it only seemed like the cage was getting bigger and bigger, but that didn’t make it any less of a prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos & comments keep me motivated, so if you liked it, take the time of your day to put a smile on my face. Infinite thanks for giving this story a chance, I hope to see you in chapter 2.


End file.
